The True Son
by A.R.Manolakas
Summary: When Tron says something hurtful and Beck quits, will he find out Beck's secrets?


"You failed, again," Tron said, looking at Beck disappointedly.

He shook his head, "That's the twenty-second time in a row." He muttered under his breath.

Beck flinched at those words. They were spoken quietly, but not quiet enough.

His arms were shaking with exhaustion, so he folded them behind his back to hide them. He was focusing all of his energy to remain standing, and conscious. He had to lock his legs to keep himself upright.

"I'm sorry, it's been a rough cycle." He apologized sincerely, his voice straining to get the words out.

"The last hilos have been rough for everyone. It's not an excuse for slacking off." Tron turned away from Beck, "You'll never be Tron." _If you keep acting how you have been_ , he finished mentally.

Beck's mouth gaped and eyes flashed with hurt, he took a small step back, looking at the back of Tron with uncertainty and betrayal.

It felt like someone completely changed Beck's reality. Fear, uncertainty, panic, anxiety came crashing down on him like a wave.

He spent so long convincing himself that he could be worthy of Tron's name, even Tron himself had encouraged him.

How could he be so stupid? He knew he was no Tron. How could he have deluded himself from reality? Of course, he couldn't be Tron, he was just an ordinary mechanic.

Beck's eyes prickled with tears, he opened his mouth to respond, but nothing came out.

What was the point? Tron had already said what he wanted to say, it was useless to reply.

Tron's apprentice- No. Ex-apprentice- took of Tron's half of the disc and sat it quietly on the ground. He took a long look at where Tron stood, memorizing him and the room, it would be the last time he would see it.

The lack of energy intake was catching up on him; he had about 40 micros till he passed out.

He shakily rubbed his eyes before turning and walking silently away.

Tron expected a retort from Beck, not silence. He waited a few mircos before turning around, confused. There was no one there, only a pure white half disc sat on the floor where Beck had stood.

Tron furrowed his eyebrows confused, before shaking his head, annoyed. Each time Beck quit he came back the same cycle.

'Young programs' he mused, 'so temperamental.'

He picked up his disc he replaced it on his doc when a familiar stabbing pain in his side, reminding him that he needed to take a trip to the healing chamber.

Walking over to the chamber, he couldn't help but feel like he was missing something important.

His bike swerved left and right, almost hitting an oncoming truck.

Beck shook himself. He was almost to his apartment.

It was in the middle of the slums. It was the only place he could afford, even with working two jobs -not including Tron-. He partially worked at Able's Garage and Alexander's Speedy Repairs. Beck was also going to have to quit working at Able's the next cycle. His friends were asking too many questions, and it was a far drive from his apartment.

Beck exited off the freeway off into a neighborhood that no program that had a choice would be in. The roads had cracks and dips through its entirety. You could see cubes of blue, white and red mixed throughout the street, some from wrecks, others from the fights that happened every nano of every cycle.

You couldn't stop for any reason on these streets. If your bike broke down you were screwed. It's why Beck got into the habit of having several on his person at all times.

The further Beck went down the street the worse it got. He could see programs in the alleys hiding from other programs and trying to survive. Some of them didn't have arms, legs or sometimes eyes. Beck had spoken to them on occasion. Most of them were survivors of the games, like himself. They couldn't overcome the horrors they faced there, and if Beck were honest he hadn't either. Rilo's face still haunted him at night. He just knew how to put on a facade.

A couple streets later Beck arrived at his apartment building, he slowed to a stop, analyzing if it was safe to enter. There were a couple of guys and chicks in the alley beside the building, but they seemed preoccupied.

Derezzing his baton he walked as swiftly as he could with shaky legs to the entrance to the building. His nose crinkled up at the smell, it was revolting, but he got used to it as time went on. The glass on the front doors was shattered around his feet.

Sighing, he walked through the former door. He could hear people playing music, fighting, building something. The walls were paper thin.

His mind was foggy; it had been about 10 days since he had just a sip of energy. The prices of energy had risen majorly since Argon became occupied territory, and programs still had to give Tesler some of their energy.

He couldn't afford a new serving of energy till the end of the hilo, so he had to make a single serving of energy last till then, which meant he could have half a serving every two weeks.

The average program had three vials of energy a day, not considering the energy from the clubs. It was one of the reasons why he hanged out around Mara and Zed less even if he was available. They always wanted to go to the club, and Beck couldn't afford it. He could barely afford a single room apartment and one serving of energy even with working two jobs.

Approaching the elevator he pressed the up button. His apartment was on the seventh floor, not too bad of a walk up the stairs if you had a good night's rest and some energy, but he had neither.

"BOY!"

The yell broke him out of his thoughts, he stiffened and turned around to face his landlord. The man had a fatherly face, but cruel green eyes.

"Remember, your rent is due before the end of the hilocycle, "He snarled, mercilessly, " And don't forget that it's raised by 300 credits."

"But I can barely afford what I'm paying now!" Beck protested.

"Didn't ask, don't care. Just get the money before the next hilo or you're out of here."

Beck's mouth gaped as the landlord left. He didn't have that kind of money! For him to get that much money he would have to get a third job and work overtime at his other two.

He didn't have the time for that, not with him working as the renegade. Oh. He needn't worry about that any longer.

He stepped on the elevator, punching in his floor number. The stress of everything was getting to him. He hadn't had a break in so long, he hadn't had energy in so long, he hasn't allowed himself to feel to for so long. He was so tired. All he wanted was a break from everything.

The elevator arrived on his floor the lights flickered and went off.

There were a couple programs on the left side of the hallway, they looked like they were breaking into someone's apartment. He longed to stop them, but he was barely standing, and he would be killed if he intervened. Beck forced himself past the two programs, adding a mental note to upgrade his lock in his apartment.

His apartment was number 734, which was on the right side of the left hallway. The floor was black with stains on it, and junk littered the floor. Parts of the ceiling was caving in, it would only be a matter of time before it did.

Reaching his apartment, he keyed in his security code. The door started to open before it shut down half way.

Beck squeezed between the door and wall. He used the last of his strength to force the door closed.

The room was bare. It had a pillow and blanket on a small, broken down bed. On a small stand beside it was one small vial of energy and a small little data pad. It was a gift from Able. He almost pawned the thing, but he had to have one for his jobs.

Beck walked the few feet to his bed and collapsed on it. The bed smelled like someone dumped energy all over it. It was lumpy and you could hear the springs.

His pillow, however, was light gray and much nicer; he snagged it from his old room at Able's. The blanket, however, was rough, small and thin; it didn't even cover half of Beck's body.

Beck's eyes had lost their spark long ago. They now looked tired and made him seem older than he really was.

He was burning up from the lack of energy, and it made him feel light headed. His eyelids flickered before closing, giving the young program a look of innocence he had lost long ago.

 _Two cycles later_

Tron frowned. He expected Beck to have returned by now.

An alert pinged on the system in front of him, Able wanted to meet with him. That was convenient. Grabbing a baton, he rezzed off to Able's garage.

Tron entered Able's office where the mechanic was waiting for him. He analyzed his friend's posture and face. He looked worried, and angry.

"Tron," Able said in lieu of a greeting.

"Able," Tron responded, "Why did you call me here?"

The mechanic sighed, "It's about Beck. He quit his job last cycle. He didn't explain why either. He just informed me that he was quitting and took his stuff from his locker. I was wondering if you knew anything."

Tron rolled his eyes and shook his head, "He's taking this farther than I expected." He muttered.

"Taking what farther?"

The monitor hesitated, "Beck quit too, almost three cycles ago."

Able locked eyes with him, "Why?"

"I'm not sure. I was reprimanding him and when I turned around he was gone, and in his place he left my half of the disc."

Able's eyes narrowed, "What exactly did you say to him?"

Tron thought back, "Nothing really, I just told him that he failed the simulation, and that having a rough cycle is not an excuse for slacking off." He was interrupted by a snort.

"Beck? Slacking off?" Able said incredulously, "All he does is work."

Shaking his head the mechanic added, "That can't be all you said."

Tron looked off to the side, trying to remember what he said. _You failed, again. Not an excuse. You'll never be Tron._

Tron stiffened, "What in users' name have I done?"

"What do you mean? What did you say to him?" Able asked, a feeling of dread creeping up on him.

"I told him he would never be Tron." The monitor admitted.

" _Tron!._ " Able berated him, "You know how long it took him to believe he could be your successor."

Tron's face showed lines of stress and worry, "I know," He sighed, "Where's his room? I need to speak with him."

Able stared at him, "Tron," He started slowly, "Beck doesn't live here anymore, he hasn't for several Hilos now."

The elder program stared at him, "What do you mean? Where does he live then?"

"I don't know. I don't think he has told anyone."

Tron furrowed his eyebrows slightly, "That doesn't make sense. Why would he not tell his friends, or at least you where he lived?"

Able shrugged, "We can ask Mara and Zed if they know."

The system monitor nodded and replaced his mask, letting Able lead them to Beck's friends.

"Mara! Zed! Hold on a nano." Able called ahead, making the programs at the end of the garage turn and face them.

"Able?" Mara asked, glancing at Tron's figure, "Who are you?"

"He's a friend of Beck's. Speaking of Beck, have you seen him?"

It was Zed who answered, his eyes shifting from Tron to Able, "We haven't seen him since his last shift, but I heard Link saying that he saw him driving out to the slums."

Tron's frown deepened. No program had any business in the slums. It was a very dangerous place to be.

Able frowned as well, but quickly covered it, "Thank you."

"What is this about?" Mara asked.

"Nothing," Tron answered, in his usual gruff manner, but he had already started walking past the two.

"Able?" Zed questioned, "If you find Beck tell him that he needs to pick up the next two shifts."

Tron turned to face Able, waiting to see how he would reply.

The head mechanic let out a sharp gust of breath, "He didn't tell you." It wasn't a question. "Mara, Zed," He began, "Beck quit last cycle."

Mara gasped and raised a hand to her mouth. "No, he would have told us!"

"Would he really? With the way you both have treated him?" Able asked, with an angry tilt to his voice.

"What do you mean?" Tron asked, his brow furrowed, Beck hadn't said anything about his friends.

Able looked past Mara and Zed to Tron, he opened his mouth to answer him, but was interrupted by Mara.

"We didn't say anything that bad," She defended.

"Really?" Able asked rhetorically, "So calling him 'worthless', 'useless', and 'pathetic', isn't that bad?"

" _You did what_?" Tron said, his face set in hard lines, his eyes alight with anger. He stalked closer to the pair, his footsteps louder than normal.

Tron loomed over them, making Zed back up into a wall.

"How _dare_ you?" He growled, looming over the pair.

"H-he didn't finish a really important assignment," Zed stammered, his voice grew a little stronger, "And he's never here."

"That is not an excuse to treat him that way." Tron retorted with venom lining his voice, fingernails digging into his palm.

"What do you care? You say you're a friend of Beck's but we've never seen or heard of you." Mara retorted.

"If you're what he calls friends, then I'm _ashamed_ to ever be considered one." Tron spat, "Beck is a better man than _any_ of us will ever be, and for you to tell him otherwise is _unacceptable_. And the reason you've never heard of me is because Beck knows I value my privacy, and he was respecting that."

Tron turned away from them, facing Able, "We need to find him."

He needed to leave before he did something Beck would hate him for.

Able nodded his agreement and rezzed his bike. Tron repeated the action nano's later.

Once they were a reasonable distance from the garage they decreased their speed and drove next to one another.

"Why would Beck go to the slums? He knows to avoid that place at all cost," Tron asked, looking at his friend.

"I wish I knew Tron. I wish I knew."

They exited off the road and into the most dangerous part of Argon.

Tron felt his code rebel at being in the place. There was so much hate and violence in the neighborhood.

"How are we supposed to find him?" Able asked, pulling up to the left of Tron.

"I'm not sure, we can ask around." The monitor responded, looking down an alleyway.

The mechanic hummed in agreement.

They both slowed to a stop and derezzed their bikes back into a baton. Tron took the lead, and Able trailed behind, watching their backs.

There were several programs in the alleyway they had entered.

"Excuse me," The monitor said, his voice rumbling, "Have you seen this program?"

Tron held out a datapad with Beck's face on it, showing it to the program in front of him.

The program had hazel eyes and light brown hair, "Yeah, he's that kid that lives there." He said, pointing to a building behind the pair.

"It's a shame too," The program beside the first added, "He's such a nice young man."

"Thank you," Able said quietly.

He grabbed Tron by the elbow and guided him towards the building when the monitor showed no signs of movement.

"Do you think they could be wrong?" Able asked him softly.

Tron shook his head, "They recognized him instantly. He has to be a regular in this neighborhood for them to do that."

Flynn knew Tron hoped against reason that they were wrong, and that Beck was just visiting a friend.

They reached the door, stepping around the broken glass. Able pushed open the door pointlessly.

"Who are you?"

Tron raised an arm to his disc, prepared to draw it.

Able glanced at him and elbowed him in the gut.

"Hello," The mechanic said, forcing a friendly smile, "We're looking for a friend of ours, we were told he lives here."

"Uh huh," The man answered, "What does he look like? I know all my tenants."

For some reason, that didn't make them feel any better.

Able brought up the picture of Beck and showed it to the man.

"Yeah, I know the kid. He's on the seventh-floor, number 734." The man said.

Tron nodded, they both started up the stairs, neither program had the patience for the elevator.

"Do tell him I want my money by the end of the hilo, or he'll pay for it a different way." He called up to them with a pointed gaze.

Tron growled, and made to go down the stairs, but a firm hand on his shoulder stopped him. Able slowly shook his head, "He's not worth it," He reasoned, glaring at the program at the bottom of the stairs.

Tron shook off the hand and continued up the stairs.

Able walked behind him, he took a deep breath and gagged.

Tron turned around staring at him with a puzzled expression under his mask.

"The," He coughed, "Smell."

His friend rezzed his mask and caught up with Tron, who tilted his head forwards, implying that they should hurry up.

Nodding, they both jogged up the stairs to the seventh floor.

Tron glanced at the hallways, "I'll take the left hallway, you take the right."

Able hummed his agreement and turned to look down that hallway.

Tron started down the left hallway, stepping over a pile of pixels; he didn't dare think of what they used to make.

The monitor found the door, it looked like it had extra security on it.

Thankfully he knew how to hack it. It didn't take long, a few nanos at the most before the door opened.

Tron stepped through the doorway, and took a good look at the room, he could feel his core breaking into little pieces.

It was bare, nothing on the walls and the ceiling was caving in. On the left wall, there was a desk with a half filled container of energy. He looked at the bed beside it, he could make out Beck's form.

"Beck," He exhaled, rushing over to his apprentice's side.

He gently turned him so he was laying on his back, and he gasped.

Beck's face was a deathly pale, and his lips were almost white. Beck's circuits were almost nonexistent, practically translucent, so he could see the black of the suit underneath the circuits. His eyes were orbited by dark rings, and he was freezing. Much too cold for a program. Tron could hear Beck's labored breathing, as if something was stalling his processors.

"Able!" Tron screamed, his voice echoing down the hallway.

"Come on, Beck, wake up," Tron said rushed, shaking him gently.

Able ran to the room, stopping in the doorway as he saw Tron, with his mask off, kneeling over Beck. The monitor turned his face to look at Able, he had panic and fear in his eyes.

"He's dying."

Able rushed to Beck's side, "He needs energy!" Able instructed, grabbing the half vial of energy. Tron raised Beck to a sitting position, so Able could give him the little amount of energy they had.

The mechanic met Tron's gaze, "It's not enough, he needs more."

Tron hands were gripping the sides of his face, "The closest energy store is near your side of town." He looked at Beck hopelessly. He wouldn't survive the trip. " I can't let him die," Tron pleaded.

"Do you keep energy at your hideout?" Able asked, "It's closer than the garage."

Tron nodded.

"Alright, you carry him to the hideout, I'm going to get the elevator and see if I can't speed it up."

Able left the room, running in the direction of the elevator, leaving Tron and Beck alone again. He bent down and looped his arms under Beck's legs and neck.

Standing back up, he snagged the data tablet and swiftly walked out of the room.

Beck would never return to this place, Tron swore.

Able had the elevator ready, "Hurry up, he doesn't have much time."

Tron said nothing as he entered the elevator beside Able.

The monitor stared at Beck's face as if seeing through the eyes of a stranger. He looked older than any program his age had a right to be. There were more stress and worry lines on his forehead, and not nearly enough laughter lines. His lips were pale and thin, and they rested in a slight frown.

Tron could picture the smiling program that joked with him mere hilos ago, his smiling face and the crow's feet at the edge of his eyes. He could still hear his sarcastic remarks.

Tron's shoulders slumped. This isn't what Flynn had imagined for the grid.

He tightened his grip on Beck as they exited the elevator. His senses were heightened, searching for any danger to the three.

Finding none, they stepped through the door, not bothering to pointlessly open it this time.

Able opened his baton first. He then turned to take Beck from Tron so the monitor could rezz his own baton.

Tron hesitated; he didn't want to let go of Beck.

 _Stop it. Able cares about him too,_ Tron's mind berated.

Carefully supporting Beck's head, he passed him to Able, who had a knowing look on his face.

Tron rezzed his bike, faster than what was needed.

He turned back to Able to take Beck back from the mechanic.

Taking Beck, Tron turned and sat on the motorcycle, waiting for Able to do the same.

"Let's go, he's not going to last much longer." The mechanic said, looking at the program limp in Tron's arms.

 _At the hideout_

Tron and Able arrived at the hideout, his bike collapsing as he ran towards one of the guest rooms. Beck's face was cracking with code and his face was ashen gray.

"The energy is behind that counter," He called over his shoulder.

Not bothering to look behind him to see if Able understood him or not, he rammed the door open with his shoulder.

"Beck," He whispered, "Hold on, were at the hideout."

Tron could feel Beck's circuits slowing, and they were fading. The cracks on his face were spreading and deepening. Beck's circuits were transparent.

Tron's core was racing, "Able!" He yelled as he shot a little energy into Beck's circuits. "Hurry!"

The small amount of energy Tron had given to Beck didn't do anything to help the state of his circuits or the cracks.

"Tron?" A meek voice asked.

Tron's head snapped down to look at Beck. His brown eyes, grayish and dull.

"Beck." He replied breathlessly.

Beck's eyes fluttered.

"I'm sorry." He said, forcing himself to lift his head to look at Tron. "I failed you."

Beck never understood why programs claimed there was a moment of clarity right before death. How could there be? Your life was being taken from you, it should be a moment of panic. Not a moment of understanding.

He understood now. It was like seeing it from a different point of view. Everything clicked into place, it was like a puzzle, except he's out of pieces.

Tron clutched him to his chest, "You've _never_ failed me. I failed _you._ And I should have _never_ said that to you."

Beck cocked his head at Tron, compassion shining in his eyes, "It's okay," he mumbled, "I forgive you."

Tron shook his head exasperated, the program in his hands had so much compassion, even for programs that didn't deserve it.

The monitor walked over to the bed and tried to lay Beck down on to it.

Beck, realizing what his mentor was doing, latched onto Tron as tight as he could, but he was weak. His eyes were asking a silent question.

Tron looked at Beck, puzzled, but the fear in the young mechanics eyes made him comply.

The monitor sat on the bed and laid Beck beside him, the younger program rested his head on Tron's chest.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Tron asked quietly, glancing at the doorway, anxiously waiting for Able.

"I'm not your responsibility, and besides," He murmured, "I was doing just fine."

Tron's gaze snapped down to look at Beck, " _Fine_?" He said, "That's what you call fine?!"

"Slightly less than fine?" He amended, leaning into his mentors touch.

Tron ran his fingers through Beck's hair slowly, staying silent.

Beck smiled weakly, his eyes glazing over, "You know," He started his words slurring, "I never thought that poem would describe me so well."

"Beck?" Tron questioned, pushing away the dread he felt, "What poem? Tell me the poem?"

"Hm?" Beck said, his head snuggling against Tron's chest. "Yeah, sure." He mumbled distractedly.

 _"Oh dear sister, the strongest of us._

 _How I wish to see you grow."_

 _"Oh dear brother, the brave of us._

 _How I've seen you grow from cowardice to righteousness."_

 _"Oh dear lover, the best of us._

 _How I love you so._

 _"Oh dear leader, the truest of us._

 _How can I show you how much you've changed, from indifference to understanding."_

 _"Oh dear fallen brother,_

 _How I wish you could see them all,_

 _They've grown so much since you, as have I."_

 _"Oh dear fallen comrade,_

 _Together, side by side, we stood braving the horrors of war."_

 _"Oh dear,_

 _I'm no longer a naive boy,_

 _I am now a strong man."_

 _"Oh dear,_

 _It seems as last,_

 _I shall see you once more."_

 _"Oh dear sister, brother,_

 _Goodbye."_

Beck's words started to blend together.

 _"Oh dear leader,_

 _Thank you."_

His eyes started to drift closed.

 _"Oh fallen brother,_

 _Here I come."_

His processors powered to a stop, his circuits long gone from his body.

"Beck?" Tron asked, looking at the program in his arms, his fingers stilling in Beck's black messy hair.

The cracks faded away, leaving Beck's smooth pale face in its wake. Making it look like the boy was asleep. The worry lines also disappeared.

"Beck," Tron repeated, his processors speeding up with worry, the room was silent.

Beck's hand, released its hold on Tron. His head like a weight on the monitors chest, and any warmth that he had was gone now, he was like ice.

"Beck!" Tron screamed, tightening his hold on the younger program.

But his arms went right through Beck.

Beck was a pile of white cubes on his chest and in his arms.

Tron's throat closed, his eyes blanking out.

 _No._

 _Not Beck._

 _Users' no._

Tron arms started to shake, he brought his knees to his chest and rested his head on them .

" _NO!"_ He yelled his hands gripping his head.

His yell turned to gut-wrenching sobs, Tron's chest heaved and shook, as more tears came. The tears ran down his face and dripped onto his chest.

His shoulders shuddered as he tried to take a breath, Tron's eyes becoming red and puffy.

 _Users', why Beck?_

 _Why his son?_

It wasn't supposed to be this way. Beck was supposed to live and grow older, to see life after the war they were raging. He was supposed to smile and laugh as he joked with Tron.

The saltiness of the tears were bitter on his lips, and they aggravated his scars.

Tron clutched Beck's disc, the only thing he had left of him, besides his recoder.

He reached over and gently held it in front of him; tears still streaming down his face. His fingers tracing the lines on it, memorizing the feel of the disc.

Beck's friends deserved to have it, but it was too dangerous for them to know Beck's secret. And he would do what Beck would have wanted him to do.

Tron would protect them till his dying breath.

He reached over his shoulder and connected Beck's disc to his own.

It didn't change his suit, but it brought a warmth to his circuits.

"Tron!" Able yelled from the counter, oblivious to what had happened.

The mechanic ran through the door with a large glass of energy. "Here!"

Able stopped in the doorway. "Tron?" He asked cautiously dread settling in his core, stepping forward slowly.

Looking down from Tron's figure, he saw something he had only seen in his nightmares.

Beck's pixels.

"No!" He shouted, running forward, letting the glass drop out of his hands.

Beck." He choked out, dropping to his knees by Tron's side.

"What are we going to tell Mara and Zed?" Able whispered, closing his eyes as if it would fix it all.

"Tell them that he was on a train ride to Gallium, and as he was walking down the streets he heard someone cry for help. And Beck would never ignore that, so he tried fighting them off while letting the program escape." Tron got out, rubbing his eyes as more tears flowed, "But there were too many of them, and he was killed saving the program."

"He deserves to be remembered as a hero," Tron added shakily.

No one would ever know just how great of a hero Beck was unless they won this war. If he didn't already have enough incentive to free the grid, then, this would be all he needed.

He would win this war for Beck. He would remove the 'slums'. And he would make sure no program would every be energy deprived again. When this war was over, he'd build a statue of Beck in Tron city.

Nothing like CLU's statue, just a small one, in a hall he would make.

The hall of heroes.

Every program would know of Beck.

He would make sure of it.

 _Many, many, many cycles later._

"Sir, the architects wish to inform you, that the statue has been delivered to the desired location." A young Lt. informed him, trying his best to seem self-possessed.

"Thank you, James," Tron said, turning around and following the boy to the Hall of Heroes.

The Hall was massive, about 12 stories tall in a dome shape that resembled Able's garage. It was colored blue with white and had a metallic feel to it.

Inside were the names of every program who had died in the war against CLU and his followers. There were also the names of every living program on a different floor. Depending on the rank, and achievements, some programs had a statue commissioned in their honor. There were about 15 statues all together in the Hall of Heroes. But not the statue that mattered the most to Tron.

That statue was in a far corner of the grid, in a hideout in the mountains.

Though there was a statue in the hall of heroes that meant quite a lot to him. In was down a bright hallway.

At the end of that hallway was a gigantic room, filled with information about Tron's true apprentice. It was filled with the story of a young mechanic who took a stand against the tyranny.

But in the center of the room stood a large statue, of a program dressed in Tron's white circuits.

The statue was of Beck.

The statue looked determined, but it also looked kind. Beck's statue stood straight up, with his hands folded behind his back. It radiated confidence and strength.

This was the statue made for the public to remember, but it was not the one Tron remembered him by. The one Tron remembered him by was in the hideout in Argon. That's where Beck was 'buried'.

It's the statue he was going to see. The programs that put it there had no idea where that was or what it meant to Tron.

He walked past the public statue of Beck and out the side doors where there was a ship that he was taking to Argon.

Tron wiggled his fingers as his white suit disappeared and a black stealth one appeared.

He heaved a long sigh, looking around Argon with memories of the past on his mind.

He only encountered a few programs on his walk the boundary. The city's population was just starting to pick up again.

"Sir!" A voice called from behind him. "Stop! You can't go out into the outlands, it's not safe."

Tron glanced back at the program, but continued walking.

"Stop! This is your final warning!" The voice yelled.

The monitor stopped and turned to face the young program, "I have business to attend to."

"I'm sorry sir," The woman replied running up to Tron, "But, it's very dangerous out here, and there are parts of it off limits to programs."

Tron snorted, "To regular programs yes, but not to me."

"Sir?" She asked confused

He sighed and collapsed his mask, waiting for the typical reaction.

"Tron!" She breathed, before snapping to attention, "I apologize for the disrespect."

Tron waved her off, "What's your name?"

"Ava, sir."

"Return to your station, and, Ava, don't tell anyone you saw me."

Tron turned and broke into a run, rezzing his encom beneath him.

He came up upon the gorge where he and Beck had their first training session. Tron smiled softly as he made the jump easily.

It didn't take long once he was past the gorge, fifteen micros at the most to arrive at the hideout.

He collapsed his bike and rezzed his normal suit on. It didn't feel right to enter without it.

His fingers brushed the walls, remembering all the good, and bad times. He stopped once he saw the stairs.

At the very top of the stairs, right in front of the window, stood the statue Tron remembered Beck by.

Beck was in his normal circuits, his hair its normal mess and a smile lighting up his face. The statue had an arm slung over a second statue, one of Tron himself. Tron's statue still had his scar, but he was in his black Tron suit. His statue was looking towards Beck, glaring in annoyance.

It made Tron smile slightly. It fit them.

In front of Beck's statue, on the ground laid a small inscription.

It said:

 _"Oh dear fallen hero,_

 _You were a brother, a leader and a comrade,_

 _But you were also a son._

 _Oh dear fallen hero,_

 _The war will be won,_

 _For now, rest,_

 _Your fighting is done."_

It was an added piece to the poem Beck had said.

Tron knelt in front of Beck's statue, his face lined with sadness.

"I miss you," He admitted quietly. "You were like a son to me, and I betrayed you." Tron's blue eyes watered, "But y'know, I was right when I said you'd never be Tron."

"You ar-were a better man than I was. You were something better than Tron, I don't know what, but you became more than myself." That might be the truest thing he ever said. "Like all children should."

"I'm so old now, and I'm so, so tired. You died so long ago. No program is supposed to live as long as I have." Tron was the oldest program on the grid; Able had passed away cycles ago. "I found Flynn, and it's so hard for me to be around him. I just keep thinking, if he hadn't been so naive, you would still be here. He's returning to the user world soon, for good this time, and he's offered to take me with him." Tron shook his head, looking at the ground. "I told him no. He understood, though, he said 'that if he had lost his son, like I've lost mine, he wouldn't be able to bear leaving.'"

"There are three system admins now. One Flynn created, one's an ISO and one is a regular program. He gave the last two the same abilities that CLU had." CLU's name left a bitter taste in his mouth. "There's an entire security force now, none of them are as good as me, or yourself."

"I've made arrangements for my death," It felt weird, talking about his death when he wasn't even dead yet. "I'm going to be 'buried' right here next to you. I'm not sure what I want to have inscribed yet, though."

"Your friends, Mara and Zed, will make sure that our disc is placed in the middle of the inscription. I still don't like them, but I can tolerate them. What they said to you is/was unforgivable."

Tron shuffled his feet as he lowered himself to sit in front of Beck's inscription.

"I know you wanted to see Tron City and I'm so sorry that I couldn't show it to you." Tron sighed. Beck had told him once that if he could do anything once the war was over, it would be to see Tron city.

Tron turned his head, and looked past the statues, "I really do miss you Beck. I always thought, that maybe, once the war was over me and you could set this place up, make it more 'homey', I suppose."

Tron closed his eyes and smiled. His breath grew slower and his circuits started to disappear.

 _My fight is over now._

Tron's fingers brushed over a small line of text.

He didn't even have to open his eyes to know what it said, he knew it by heart.

It said:

 _"Here lies Beck,_

 _The True Son of Tron."_

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=–=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=–=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=–=-=-

 _5 cycles later._

"Mara," Zed said gently tugging her arm, "It's time to go."

"I know, but-" She broke off, crying, "They're both gone now."

Zed wrapped an arm around her, directing her to the exit, "Yeah, they are." He agreed, glancing back at the fresh inscription.

 _"Oh dear fallen leader,_

 _You were a brother and a friend._

 _But you were also a father._

 _Oh dear fallen leader,_

 _Your war has been won._

 _Vengeance has been done."_

 _"Here Lies Tron._

 _'The guardian of the True Son."_


End file.
